This will be roughly based on the suicide squad version of Joker and Harley but only the looks. The story will be more based on the comical version of them. Maybe some abuse but I will keep that to a minimum. There will be scenes of strong language and sexual innuendos. I do have some backstory that I have come up with but a majority of the rights go to DC.

/Harleen/

So here I was, sitting across from the clown himself, the Joker. I' had been his psychiatrist for about a month now. We've had about 15 sessions. Most were not successful, he would usually ask me more questions then I would him.

He had that brilliant green hair and his clouded emerald eyes. His pale skin tone seemed to bring out his numerous tattoos and I couldn't get enough of him. I knew that I was risking my job for feeling these things, and that I should just ask for a new assignment. But I couldn't bring myself to leave him, he had a certain pull to him that I couldn't explain.

My thighs were clenched together as he was staring deep into my eyes. He had been whispering dirty things that no one should repeat. He knew what he was doing and he loved his power.

"You seem frustrated Doctor, did I do that?" He laughed and pointed to my thighs.

"You have such a beautiful skin tone, especially when I make it turn a deep red. Red surprisingly is one of my favorite colors..." he trailed off "The color of blood, the color of your cheeks, the color of your lips." He grunts and stands up.

I gasped as he grabs my hand.

"Mistah-erm-Mr. J, we cannot allow for things to become unprofessional." I warn, looking at his beautiful and bruised lips.

"Oh contraire my dear, the current state of your body says otherwise." He reaches for my face and I instantly recoil. Wrong move.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked my touch." He slurs.

My blouse had moved to show a deep purple bruise on my collar bone. I hadn't realized it was out in the open until I hear him gasp.

"I see, you've been having some boyfriend problems? That's why I can't touch you? Why don't you just run away Harls? You're a smart girl." He says in a rare serious tone. I look up at him with tears in my eyes.

"I can't, running only makes things worse." I swallow back tears.

"Only if you get caught." He laughs then becomes serious again.

"I don't need your pity." I snap, standing up on weak legs. So much so that I nearly fall over. He catches me, standing me upright.

I huff and straighten my blouse. "See you on Wednesday." I say, holding back any emotion.

I leave with the beautiful clown laughing hysterically behind me.